


Where's My Love

by hellionbaby (reketrebn)



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Angst, Aoi is in love with Uruha, Aoi is thinking, Aoi-Centric, Falling In Love, Kissing, M/M, POV Second Person, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 17:31:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7447927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reketrebn/pseuds/hellionbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're young and reckless, it doesn't really worry you what's coming next or even tomorrow. You just do what you want, damn the consequences.</p><p>Pack your bag and guitar, say goodbye to your parents, leave a voice message to your girlfriend and catch the train to Tokyo. Who cares if it will end well or not, what do you really have to lose, when you have next to nothing and your future isn't really written out yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where's My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I've never written in the second person's POV before and this just happened on its own.. like I literally have no idea how. But here it is so I guess enjoy lol.
> 
> Title taken from SYML - Where's My Love ♪♫
> 
> and thanks for beta to Nexie who bears with my incompetence XD

 

 

When you're young and reckless, it doesn't really worry you what's coming next or even tomorrow. You just do what you want, damn the consequences.

Pack your bag and guitar, say goodbye to your parents, leave a voice message to your girlfriend and catch the train to Tokyo. Who cares if it will end well or not, what do you really have to lose, when you have next to nothing and your future isn't really written out yet.

Make some friends, buy them lunch, take odd jobs and keep going. Who cares your apartment is damp and nothing in it works. You’ve lived half your life on the beach so this can't really bother you that much.

Play guitar, even if you suck at it. The band guys you know are not doing any better so it doesn't matter. You're young and you're all having fun, most of you won't make it major anyway. It's music and it's getting under your skin like nothing else before; not surfing, not baseball, probably not even love.

Speaking of which, your ex suddenly appears at your workplace, she's yelling and she's angry you left her with just a lame voicemail. Are you fucking serious? What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here and why did you leave like this?

Later after work you take her to your shitty place, fuck her and tell her this really is goodbye because you're not going back. You can't come back from this anymore, you'd die or rot in that small town where everyone knows each other and no one really liked you there anyway. She looks at you for a long moment and she understands. You're probably stupid for letting her go but it is what it is.

You're alone again but not really, because now you actually know where you're going. You'll stay here in this big city of lights and do whatever you can. There is something much bigger than you and you can feel it, you can almost taste it when you start spending every night at the live houses.

You meet new people again and you kinda click in the weirdest way; you never met guys like these. You feel as if in some strange sense they get you, even if you're older than them, but they drag you in and along. And before you know it you're their guitarist, you start buying them cigarettes and lunches and after a month you're making music together; drinking like morons and the smallest one is yelling at the whole cantina that you're a band now FUCKERS YEAH WATCH US MAKE IT BIG! You can't stop laughing and you're happy, because finally you feel as if you belong and someone wants you to stay, really stay and be a part of that something that’s bigger than all of you.

It becomes a whirlwind of work and practice and music; late night sessions and lives at the smallest clubs. And it fulfills you like nothing else. This is what you want and what your life should be. You all do crazy stuff on stage and make girls scream. It makes you feel as if you're on top the world, for a moment there you feel invincible.

Then one night you kiss your other guitarist, just for fun. Girls scream even more and it gives you a thrill of something forbidden but exciting at the same time.

So you start doing it almost every show. It's just fanservice and that's what all the bands are about these days. No one takes it seriously and you all laugh about it later. The guitarist doesn't object either. Your vocalist is eccentric as well anyway and even kissed your bassist on a dare just because he could. It's all just for fun.

But you don't see it yourself for what it really is. You don't see that later the bassist and vocalist leave together or that it's neither their first or last kiss.

It's all fun and jokes but after some time you can feel something settling in your gut, as if a hook had gotten stuck in there and now it keeps tugging whenever your solo guitarist smiles or looks at you. It's weird and you don't understand it but it's happening and you can't stop it. One day you catch yourself looking at his lips and thinking what would it be like to kiss them for real.

It dawns on you too late what it is because you kept denying it, these things happen to other people and not to you. You had plenty of girlfriends and regular hook ups, you don't like guys in that way.

But you also remember the way your eyes used to linger way too long on the naked torsos of your surfer friends. Or that one drunken night in a club few months ago:  a guy mistook you for a host boy and started feeling you up in the bathroom. You never told anyone, because you let him and it felt good and he wasn't ugly either; even though the next morning you felt like shit for taking his money and lying to him. It hadn’t been bad at all; just the lying was disgusting.

You want your friend in ways you probably really shouldn't. But you still do. And it gets kinda scary how fast you're falling. Attraction becomes a crush and from there it's just a small step left on the way to a disaster. You know well that if you don't cut it off soon, it will grow and ruin you, ruin everything.

But then the most unexpected thing happens and you're not sure if you're dreaming or if someone’s put something in your drink. All of you are in a club, your vocalist keeps complaining about the music but the drinks are cheap and you're celebrating your guitarist's birthday. And after too many shots and weird cocktails, the said guitarist wants to dance so you all go except the drummer. It's silly and too many people are pressed up against each other. Suddenly you're pushed onto a warm slender body and it happens to belong to the very man you've been dreaming about for months now.

You look up and he's grinning his dorky smile down at you and you want to just lean in, taste that smile and the warmth it's radiating. And so you do. There is a definite surprise on the other end of that kiss but not enough for it to be considered as resistance. The alcohol probably burned out all your inhibitions so you hold his waist and deepen the kiss. And to your surprise he lets you. He moans and suddenly there are hands in your hair, tugging and caressing. You are making out like teenagers and it feels too good, it feels so sweetly forbidden.

You still expect someone to pull you apart but it never happens. You end up wrapped up around each other on some filthy couch and that's how it all starts. A storm of kisses, secret touches, long nights and endless desires. Who the hell knew you'd fall for him so much and so hard, that he'll want you too and that both of you will be blind with passion to the rest of the world.

But nothing lasts forever and the ugly reality hunts you down eventually. Because you catch the eye of a new company, you sign and then it all starts running in circles. The machinery of the music industry destroys the beauty of all those carefree days, the thrill of unknown and it definitely doesn't allow you to date/fuck your bandmate on regular.

And so the years take you into their rapid stream, drowning you in the stress-responsibility-success  circle and washing away the days of your youth. And that's why you're here now, in a room with the same four people like fifteen years ago and you're looking at them thinking: how the hell did we get so far.

And then you turn your eyes at the guitarist that brought you so much anguish through the years and wish you could swim back upstream and hold the hand of his younger self. Because that person back then would squeeze your palm and instantly lean down to kiss you. The one here and now is barely noticing he's in a conference room with you all, that you are discussing compositions for the new album and that somebody asked him a question. And you are staring at him and wondering how the hell all of you got so old. Band is like a marriage apparently – you grow old together.

But you also love them forever.

 

 


End file.
